


Kindle Fire With Snow

by ancarett



Category: The Guild
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-18
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-13 18:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancarett/pseuds/ancarett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For someone who has experience playing with fire, Codex sure gets burned an awful lot. When her professional and gaming lives awkwardly intersect, why does Fawkes have to be right there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindle Fire With Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/gifts).



> Spoilers for all of season four. Beta-reading credit owed to htbthomas.

The ‘Music Tooters’ door slammed closed behind Codex with a bang so emphatic, it caused passing drivers to slow their cars and stare.

Codex was mortified. Surely she couldn’t have been the first applicant to fail their background check. “Stupid arson charge,” she muttered as she shuffled down the street, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, which was difficult when you have red hair, carry a violin case and talk to yourself.

The tutoring job with the music school had seemed like a shoo-in, something that she desperately needed with the gaming convention just around the corner. Zaboo had been sweet, replacing her computer, but nothing replaced the income she’d lost when Cheesybeards went up in smoke. Her stock of ramen noodles was running low and Vork’s grudging offer to share his stash of expired canned food had been too horrible to consider.

“Maybe I’ll just invent some new gadget that everyone needs. Like, a toaster that actually works, or a cellphone finder. Or-”

“Codex?” She stopped with a start at the voice. Looking up from the sidewalk, Codex realized that she was just in front of the internet cafe where she’d had her glorious showdown against the Axis not so long ago.

Glorious, of course, until it all ended up with her in bed with the man in front of her. But Fawkes was looking more than worse for the wear after his recent altercation with Jeanette at Cheesybeards, bruised and bandaged, leaning heavily on a cane.

While Codex was sure she’d normally have been able to dismiss his unwanted greeting easily, the recent job rejection had left her rattled. Add to that the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off the fascinating cane Fawkes was wielding. It was something she immediately coveted: all dark wood, twisted and set with red stones for eyes in what might be a serpent’s head. Codex tried to peek around her one-time fling and forever enemy’s fingers to see if she was right but realized, too late, that this left her vulnerable to conversation.

“‘We only part to meet again.’ John Gay.” Fawkes gave a half-bow, half-nod. “Coffee?”

“What?” Codex began nervously, ready to refuse the unwanted invitation, but a fellow exiting the cafe saw Fawkes moving toward the door and held it open for the two of them. “Oh, well, um, sure,” Codex mumbled as she followed Fawkes inside, her violin still tightly held against her bosom.

He signaled with his free hand, for the cashier, who broke with normal protocol to come from behind the counter and take orders from a regal Fawkes and a stammering Codex. As the young man quickly returned with their espresso and creamy latte, she realized that Fawkes was staring at her instrument.

“Oh,” Codex said with a start, and put the violin down beside her chair.

“You really play?” Fawkes asked. As Codex started to hem and haw, he raised one eyebrow suggesting amused tolerance, a smile playing on his battered face.

Codex felt herself get angry at her unsettled response to Fawkes. Hadn’t Jeanette provided women everywhere with the perfect revenge against this “Epicurean” creep? She didn’t have to feel silly or stupid in front of him just because she felt this crazy attraction that wouldn’t go away and- Dangit. She shook her head to stop the train of thought.

“I am a symphony violinist,” she said proudly, and immediately ruined the effect by slumping and admitting, “well, I was, until-” she looked down at the table’s shiny surface at the thought of recounting the entire, embarrassing saga of how she lost her job.

“Until you burned down your cheating ex-boyfriend’s place,” Fawkes finished with as big a grin he could manage around his bruises and bandages.

Codex glanced up incredulously at his revealing one of her closely-held secrets. “What? I mean, how do you know?”

Fawkes leaned back in his seat. “Bruiser,” he said, knowing that just invoking the name of his police-force guildmate would be enough for Codex to understand how he’d uncovered her past.

She slammed her hand down on the table. “There, you see? That’s one more strike against you. You’re sneaky and you go behind my back to find out things about me that are private.”

Fawkes leaned forward into her space. “One more strike? So, you’re keeping a list of things you don’t like about me because you’re trying to convince yourself to not be interested in me.”

Codex crossed her arms defensively. “I am not,” she retorted. “I just find it edifying to remind myself of what an awful mistake we were, I mean, that was, whatever, you know, when we were together, sort of, not really.”

“Ah,” Fawkes responded, in a tone that suggested equal parts benign fascination and self-satisfied amusement. “‘We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves.’ von Goethe.”

Codex took a hasty sip of her too-hot latte and frowned in vexation. “I do not! Well, not in this case. Really!” As his expression got the more amused, she felt more frazzled and frantic. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she fixed a gimlet eye upon her former, well, not quite boyfriend but, whatever.

“Anyway, I can see clearly now what was wrong in that whole relationship fiasco, thanks to Jeanette.” Codex’s expression changed to one of triumph as Fawkes winced and touched the bandage on his left temple.

“Ouch,” he said a bit more softly, “you know, I wasn’t kidding at Cheesybeards when I said that I’d changed-”

Codex felt her heart rising hopefully in her chest at his words and leaned closer only to start as a hand clamped her shoulder.

“Hey, dudes!” Bladezz’s excited voice shocked Codex into sitting upright. “I guess I should’ve known you’d be here after Cheesybeards went poof.”

Bladezz’s artificial tan had faded slightly but he was draped in a clattery collection of faux gold chains that made him seem even more ridiculous if no less self-assured. He pulled up a chair from their table, turned it around and flung himself over it in a self-consciously romantic pose, winking at a young woman two tables over (who blanched and turned her head away).

“Bladezz,” Codex managed to say between clenched teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Meeting up with the Kevinator to pick up our tickets for the convention, Codex!”

Codex craned her head around anxiously, remembering the GM’s lascivious interest. “He’s here? Now?” She began to scramble out of her chair, reaching for the violin but Fawkes stretched out his hand and clamped hers to the table between them.

“Oh, you know the Kevinator?” Fawkes said genially. “An old acquaintance of mine. I didn’t know he knew the Knights of Good!”

Codex was still glancing around the cafe nervously, remembering how creepily the GM had admired her in-game orb. Somehow, she had a feeling that his appreciation of her real life orbs would be just as slimy. Still, she didn’t see him anywhere, so maybe she could make an escape before it was too late. With a falsely bright smile, she turned to Fawkes and offered the briefest explanation that should allow her to hightail it home. “He showed up at our guild hall.”

“For the wedding,” Bladezz interjected, rolling his eyes.

“Wedding?” Fawkes asked. “Do tell!”

Codex flashed an angry glare at her guildmate, but he was busy rearranging the gold chains around his neck and didn’t seem to notice her at all.

Bladezz gave Fawkes a man-to-man nod and poured out the whole story of Vork’s near-marriage to Zaboo’s mother while Codex silently seethed at the Axis leader’s amused expression.

“And that’s how we met the Kevinator,” Bladezz finished. “Lucky, wasn’t it, Codex?”

“Um, totally, Bladezz,” Codex answered without a spark of emotion as she prepared to make her escape. Being stuck at a table with an annoying Fawkes was difficult enough. Adding Bladezz and a lecherous GM was more than she could take.

As she pushed back her chair, the cafe door opened. She started, fearing she was too late to make her escape, then sagged forward in relief as it was only two young women who entered. Codex started anew when Fawkes grasped her free hand that had been braced on the tabletop. She tugged minutely, and he tugged back gently with what might have been a gentle smile if it had been on the face of anyone except the guy whose guild had almost destroyed hers.

Codex glanced over to her guildmate for support, but saw he wasn’t even looking at them. Instead, Bladezz was posing with an arch smile, shaking his head so that his carefully groomed hair swung back and forth. The entering girls walked by with a disbelieving laugh while the young woman at the other table stared in disbelief, then hastily drank the last of her coffee and hustled out of the cafe, looking away from their table the entire time.

Fawkes just leaned back in his chair, holding her hand all the while, taking in Codex’s unease and Bladezz’s posturing with obvious pleasure. His fingers gently rubbed against hers and her body twitched pleasurably. Wait, was that a breeze she felt, blowing her hair just so? She closed her eyes, just for a moment to test the sensation and-

“Lookie, lookie! You really are a girl!” The GM’s grating voice startled Codex out of her reverie and she almost fell out of her chair. The game master stood in front of their table, hungrily eyeing her up and down, up and down, his gaze lingering with particular intensity on her, erm, orbs.

“Kevinator, it’s me, the Cheesybeards guy, Bladezz, remember?” Codex was never more thankful for her guildmate’s self-promoting ways since they pulled the unwelcome attention off of her.

“Bladezz, of course I do! And, hey, you guys know Fawkes?” Kevin, the GM seemed crestfallen. “Damn, you always get there before me.” The last was reserved for Fawkes.

Kevin leered at Codex hopefully but Fawkes held up her hand as if it were a trophy. Codex belatedly tried to snatch her hand from his but to no avail. He swung his chair closer to hers and gestured to the GM to join them at their table. Bladezz also shifted over and, with uncharacteristic mindfulness, reached down to pick up Codex’s violin case and lay it on the table.

“Cool, what’s that, a fiddle? You play?” The question was directed to Bladezz, but Codex immediately stammered her way back into the conversation as she leaned possessively over the violin.

“No, no he doesn’t! At least, I don’t think so. Anyway, the point is, that’s my violin. I’m a professional musician, an entertainer, in fact, very much a professional,” Codex finished, hoping she sounded authoritative and accomplished, not like someone who’d just been flatly turned down as unworthy to teach music to spoiled kids.

Kevin appeared impressed, taking his eyes off of her chest for a moment to glance at her face. “Really? A professional entertainer, you say? That’s interesting. You know, as a gamemaster, I’m a kind of professional entertainer, too. In fact, I’m in charge of some of the special events for the convention. Did you know that?”

He droned on and on while Fawkes resumed gently rubbing her hand. Codex sat on the edge of her chair, feeling as if she was tightly squeezed, just like the tube of toothpaste she’d been stretching out for the past week while she tried to live on two dollars a day for food which didn’t leave enough money for toothpaste let alone anything else like new strings for her instrument or a-

“What?” Codex said as she suddenly realized the three men were all looking at her expectantly. Well, Kevin, the GM, seemed to have his eyes fixed on her cleavage which gave her a creepy feeling. Thankfully, while she floundered, Bladezz was impatient enough to repeat the question she’d obviously missed.

“Do you want the job, Codex?”

“Job? What job?” She spun around in her seat to see if the manager from “Music Tooters” had had second thoughts and tracked her down, here, but no.

Fawkes seemed a bit disapproving as Bladezz glanced over to the smug GM. “Kevin, here, has a job for you at the convention.”

Codex flailed. “A job? For me?”

Kevin preened as he leaned forward across the table to stare deeply into her neckline. “There’d be a great opportunity for a musician with your _obvious_ talents at the con if you’re available.”

Codex blushed a little as she raised one hand to tug the neckline of her t-shirt a little bit higher. “Wow! Um, sure. I’m available-” the GM’s eyes lit up instantly “-for work, for work! At the con. Sure! I could use a job, thanks!”

Fawkes’ brow furrowed and Codex smiled a little bit more at the thought that maybe he was, well, not jealous because she didn’t want that, after all!, but surprised, maybe. She could swear that her somewhat lank hair developed a bit of a natural curl as she beamed brightly.

“Tell me about the job?” she encouraged.

Kevin looked at his watch and jumped out of his seat. “Oh, damn, I have to get back home and start my shift in-game. There’s a bug in the auction house that’s giving us all sorts of headaches. Here, your tickets for the con-” he handed these to Bladezz “-and just say my name when you register at the front desk, um, Codex, was it? They’ll have everything waiting for you there.”

“Um, great! Thanks a million,” Codex burbled, thrilled at the prospect of a real job even if it came from a bit of a creep and even if she’d zoned out on what exactly the particulars of a job might befor a concert violinist at a con. . . .

“Made a conquest there, Codex,” Bladezz said, scrunching his mouth into Jagger-esque kissy lips which opened wide with a yelp as she elbowed him.

He grumbled, “I shouldn’t give you your ticket, just for that,” but handed it over. “Gotta go, you know how it is. Always in demand!”

With a nonchalant wave that set his hair fluttering, the preening model was gone. The female population of the cafe breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Fawkes pursed his lips. “You can’t take the job, you know.”

Codex looked up from her study of the convention ticket to gape at the man who was, once again, proving he fit the category of “nemesis” much better than “possible on-again date”. “What? Are you kidding? A job at the con? Do you know how-?”

Fawkes shook his head disapprovingly. “You didn’t even ask what kind of job it is. What if you’re playing music for a monkey that dances?”

Codex sniffed after she drank down most of her now-cool latte. “Then he’d have wanted an organ-grinder. But he didn’t. He offered this job to a violinist.”

Fawkes sighed. “Like the schmuck would know the difference. Look, I’ll message Kevin tonight and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

Codex leaned forward and spat out the words from between her teeth. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Fawkes stared back. “Oh, really?”

Codex let her eyes drift over his shoulder. “Oh, look, it’s Jeanette! Hi, Jeanette! Come and-”

Fawkes scrambled out of his seat so fast that she almost couldn’t believe it. His cane clattered to the floor as he unsteadily spun on his good heel and saw precisely no-one there.

“Ha-ha,” he growled.

Codex felt a tiny bit guilty, enough to make her pick up the cane (she virtuously didn’t try to peek up his utilitkilt while she crouched beside him for the moment; certainly that was worth something?) and hand it back to him. “You just stay out of my business, Fawkes,” Codex demanded as she hefted her violin.

“It’s your funeral,” Fawkes said with seeming imperturbability but Codex could see he was irked. A tiny part of her was happy at that, she had to admit. She felt just a bit more powerful, and with a definite curl to her hair.

Codex wanted to say something more but with his concession, she’d gotten what she really wanted. She shuffled her feet, seeking a graceful way to exit the conversation but couldn’t think of any. “Uh, well, bye then.”

Fawkes leaned on his cane and nodded a distant goodbye as Codex headed out the door.

***

“There you are,” Clara shouted as soon as Codex logged into the game. “Spill the beans!”

Codex glanced over her shoulders wildly. “What? What are you talking about?”

Clara clucked. “Bladezz told us _everything_. So, you’re back together with Fawkes, again, _and_ you have a GM after you.”

Tink sighed over her headset. “I think you’re trying too hard, Codex. Less is more, you know.”

Zaboo chimed in as Codex opened and closed her mouth soundlessly at her guildmates’ chatter. “I totally, 100% support you, my friend of friends, in whatever choices you make. See? I’m being supportive, aren’t I, Codex?”

“What,” Codex managed weakly, “Uh, yes, Zaboo, sure you are. But wait, guys, Bladezz got it all wrong, Fawkes and I are not ‘back together’ and-”

Whatever else she said was cut off by a piercing whistle that shrieked over their chat channel. “Guild members,” Vork’s stern voice chided, “you are seven minutes late for our appointed muster to take down the boss mob of the dungeon of Gawaladder.”

Clara tsked. “We’re busy, Vork.”

“And there’s the con trip to plan,” Bladezz said in a whine. “I’m going to bring a stack of 8x10s to sign for all my adoring fans.”

Vork sighed mightily. “You may reserve your off-topic chatter for after our scheduled raid. In the guild hall, if you wish, which, since the unauthorized redecoration managed by _certain members_ I will never set foot in again. I have already prepared a plan of attack for our trip to the con, in any case. You’ll find it posted to the guild message board. Now, it’s time to game!”

With that, the Knights of Good settled down to business in their usual somewhat-chaotic style. After their third wipe, they finally managed to take down the secondary boss and the loot was sufficient to stop Vork’s sighs of exasperation.

As Codex logged off, after trying to shake Tink and Clara’s alternatingly sarcastic and saccharine comments on her meet-up with Fawkes, all she could think about was how much she was counting on this job and how annoying Fawkes was to try and interfere. She didn’t let a single thought dwell on how distracting his presence had been, not at all. Honest. Well, almost.

***

“Kevin sent me,” Codex proudly announced as she stood before the registration table with her ticket, her violin and wearing her homemade costume.

The tired woman in a t-shirt who was manning the registration desk didn’t look up from the name badges she was pouring into a bowl. “Unless you’re here to help me with the registration, I don’t want to hear anything about Kevin.”

Codex smiled uncomfortably. “You don’t understand. He sent me for the job. The musical job. See? I have a violin with me and everything.”

The taller woman looked up from her stack of registration papers with a grimace. “Musical job? Oh, wait. You mean the entertainment gig. He told us he’d found someone to help out.”

Glancing up and down at Codex’s nervous figure, her grimace deepened. “Oh, honey, they’ll eat you alive. Second ballroom on the left, up the stairs. Take this staff badge. You’re on until four today. I’ll tell them you’re coming!”

With a pointed finger to the staircase as she pulled a cell to her ear and barked a few words into it, the registration staffer sent her off on her way. Codex waved a few fingers at her guildmates who were now dealing with registration. Soon, the crush of gamers obscured her friends from view.

“Second ballroom on the left,” Codex repeated to herself as she hugged her case close to her torso. Maneuvering through the crowd of people made her wish for a real-life orb that could blast a path.

“Excuse me. _Ex_ cuse me,” she bleated as she shoved and pressed herself against the crowd, over to the second doorway. A small sign was on the door but Codex couldn’t stop to read as a security staffer grabbed her by the elbow.

“Thank god you’re here. We’re waiting on you! It’s desperate.”

Codex smiled in a pained way as she was wrestled into the room. “Me? You’re waiting on me? Really?” She preened a little bit before the wall of high-pitched wails, screams and shouts penetrated her hearing.

With an open-mouthed gape, Codex looked around the ballroom, filled with kids of all ages. A few were sitting in chairs, some very small babies were tucked in play pens against the wall and a few gamer parents were feeding infants. But the rest of the floor seemed alive with kids kicking, shrieking and scuffling until a loud whistle from the stage got their attention.

“Good,” Kevin’s voice followed the cat-call he’d blared out. “Our entertainer is here! Kids, I want you to meet, what’s your name again? Ah, Codex! She’s going to be your musical host all day long, here at the convention!”

With those words, he hopped off the stage and hotfooted it out the back door of the ballroom. Codex was left with what seemed like all the children of southern California.

Codex’s mouth dropped until she thought it hit her chest and she clutched her violin closer as the wave of children raced toward her.

“We’re bored! Bo-red!”

“You’re skinny and look funny.”

“Got any candy?”

“Wah!”

The last was, unsurprisingly, Codex’s own utterance as she realized just how bad this job actually was going to be.

***

She’d exhausted her repetoire of songs suitable for kids after about twenty minutes. They’d rejected the violin: one of the nursing mothers had complained that the “screeching” made it impossible for her milk to let down or something.

Everyone looked at Codex to solve things. She’d peeked out the door of the ballroom, but the security staffer just pointed to a wristwatch and lifted four fingers. Damnit, she was stuck until four.

The little bastards began to wail and, in desperation, Codex had started to lead a sing-along. They’d gotten down to eleven bottles of beer on the wall when an officious staffer had come in to say that parents were complaining regarding the promotion of alcohol.

Codex had tried to explain that she wasn’t a children’s entertainer and she wasn’t supposed to be here, but the cart of food they’d wheeled in “for snacks” distracted her so thoroughly that she’d let the disapproving woman disappear out the security-staffed door without anything being done about her complaints. Of course, the kids made a stampede for the food and all that Codex could find at the end were some sagging carrot sticks and much-handled pieces of string cheese. They weren’t appetizing, but they were edible.

She scooped them onto a plate and moved toward the side of the room, seeking a moment of peace. A toddler came and latched onto her calf. “My diaper’s poopy,” the child sing-songed. Codex put her plate of food on the table beside her and attempted not to vomit. Seeing the plate, the toddler began to climb the table.

Codex headed to the other side of the room, hoping to hunt through the piles of diaper bags and blankies until she found enough clothes to cobble together a disguise that would get her past the security goons and back out to freedom.

She was distracted when the door open and instead of another kid being shoved into the ballroom, Tink and Clara entered. Codex ran over to her guildmates, barely restraining a sob of joy.

Tink raised one eyebrow and withdrew as Codex stumbled into view. “Ew,” was all she said before she slipped back out the door.

“Wow, Codex,” Clara said, gazing around the mayhem in the ballroom with admiration. “If I’d known they had a kids’ room here, I would’ve had Wiggly bring them along. We could’ve dumped them here with you!”

“Please say you’re staying here with me,” Codex begged Clara. “Please. I’m stuck in here until four. They have an ogre at the door.”

Clara waved a hand dismissively. “Not my problem. I’m here to shop and there’s no way I’m taking care of kids. I do enough of that at home.”

Codex plucked at her guildmate’s sleeve. “What about the others?”

Clara closed her eyes in consideration. “Let’s see. Vork’s in the computer room and won’t be out until tomorrow at six, he said. Something about a special quest that’s only open at the con or something. Bladezz has a table in the dealer’s room and is signing autographs.”

Codex whimpered. “What about Zaboo? He’d help me, he keeps saying he’s my best friend, after all, and I’m sure he’s great with kids.”

Clara frowned. “Well, Zaboo had to leave.”

“What?” Codex screeched.

“Yeah, his mom called. Something about an emergency at home with her garage door opener or something. I’m not sure but he went skittering off like a rabbit,” Clara said with an airy lack of concern.

As the noise level in the ballroom ratcheted up, Clara’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “This place is too much like home and I’ve got things to shop for. Bye, Codex! Have fun!”

Codex let a small sob escape her as Clara fled the room. Her sob turned into a screech of fear as one of the preschoolers grabbed her violin case and hefted it. Pretending it was a machine gun, he aimed it at some of the bigger children milling about the denuded snack table.

“Buh-bang! Buh-bang!”

“Die!” howled a beefy kid who launched himself at the preschooler and, more importantly in Codex’s mind, her violin.

“Nooooooo,” she cried, launching herself at the case in a hopeless effort to save her instrument. As she slowly dove across the space, Codex felt herself despairing. It was too far to reach before the big kid’s fist connected with her too-fragile case. . . .

Just before fist met fiddle, a force intervened. A long, dark wooden shaft, to be precise, intercepted the bigger kid’s hand and firmly held it from connecting with the case. Codex landed with a thump on the carpet and skidded to a rest on the floor just beneath a very familiar utilikilt worn by a cane-wielding hero.

“Stop it,” came the controlled but carrying command, “now!” The cane thumped once on the stained and worn ballroom carpet.

In a circle radiating around Codex, the kids, the violin case and the intervening force, silence descended.

“Good,” Fawkes said, in a clipped tone. “Now give the lady her instrument and go bother someone else.”

The cowed kids backed away obediently, with the chastened preschooler carefully placing Codex’s violin case into her hands before running like a cheetah to the other end of the ballroom.

Codex scrambled to her feet - _so not looking_ she muttered to herself as she extricated herself from her embarrassing position. Aw, who the heck was she kidding? She’d looked!

“Um,” she managed, once on her feet, face beet-red (from exertion, not from embarrassment at being caught looking up an ex-whatever’s kilt).

“You okay?” Fawkes asked.

Codex blinked and stifled a hiccup of hysterical laughter. “Okay? No, I am not okay. I am feeling _horrible_ , thank you. I mean, here I am at the con and thinking that I’m going to be doing something big and exciting and instead that little sleazeball of a gamemaster has me roped into being the children’s entertainer for a gang of hoodlums all by myself and I couldn’t hear myself think and nobody would help me-”

“Hush,” Fawkes said, laying a surprisingly gentle finger on her lip. “‘Words ought to be a little wild, for they are the assaults of thoughts on the unthinking.’ John Maynard Keynes.”

“Huh?,” Codex responded, but before Fawkes could say anything more, the ballroom door opened to admit the Kevinator stumbling before Bruiser.

“Well done,” Fawkes said to Bruiser, who crossed his arms and stared fiercely at the gamemaster he’d brought into the room.

Turning to regard Codex, Fawkes smiled. “We’re here to aid in the cause of justice. Kevin, here, did something very, very naughty. Didn’t you, Kevin?”

Snivelling a little, Kevin nodded. Bruiser cleared his throat and Kevin blanched. “Yes, yes, I did.”

Fawkes smiled broadly as he regarded the gamemaster. “Kevin, you see, is the most recent recruit to the GMs and, as such, has the unenviable responsibility of providing entertainment for the kid’s room at the con. But Kevin, here thought he could shove the job off on some starstruck gamer.”

Kevin raised his hands. “Hey, in my defense, she did say she was a professional entertainer. How was I to know she would have a problem with a little event like this?” The GM gestured around the ballroom filled with a horde of only slightly cowed children.

Fawkes cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Kevin behaved badly. In fact, Kevin not only put this job off on you, but he implied that you’d be paid. Is there any pay for this job, Kevin?”

The GM snorted. “Duh, no. I mean, it’s a con. Everything’s done by volunteers.”

Codex uttered a despairing shriek.

Fawkes shook his head sadly. “Now, there, Kevin, is where you’re wrong. Some of the jobs are done by paid professionals. Like this one, for instance. You’re going to pay Codex what you owe her.”

Kevin eyed Fawkes incredulously. “With what? You’re joking, right? You want me to pay her my money?”

Bruiser cleared his throat as Fawkes silkily said, “‘Gold is tried by fire, brave men by adversity.’ Seneca.”

With a frightened look, Kevin scrambled for his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “There.”

Fawkes looked disappointed and Kevin grabbed another bunch of bills out of the rapidly thinning wallet, then shoved the cash forward. “Okay, there? That good enough?”

“Um, sure,” Codex managed, as she grasped the cash in one shaking hand. It was certainly more than she’d seen in a long time and enough to ensure that she could buy a new tube of toothpaste as well as something that wasn’t ramen noodles.

“And now,” Fawkes said genially, slapping Kevin on the back, “Kevin’s going to get back to his job here at the con, entertaining all these kids, isn’t he?”

“I am?” the GM said with fear and misery.

Bruiser nodded and the small man sighed. As he defeatedly trudged into the crowd of kids, Fawkes thanked Bruiser, then reached out one lightly-bandaged arm to Codex.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Get the hell out of here?” Codex replied. “Oh, yeah.”

She almost skipped as they exited the ballroom. A giddy chant of “Freedom, freedom, freedom” burbled through her thoughts and she barely noticed as Fawkes and Bruiser parted ways. It wasn’t until they were standing on the mezzanine overlooking a snaking line of con-goers waiting to get into one of the venues that her euphoria faded enough that she could take stock of where she was, and with whom. She also hastily shoved the money into the violin case, since gaming clothes never came with pockets.

“I guess I should say thanks,” Codex began, then winced. “No, I am saying thanks because, geez, what you did there was a lifesaver, pretty literally. I just, well, didn’t expect it, at least not from you and after what happened at the cafe.”

Fawkes leaned on his cane, regarding her thoughtfully. “‘Anger and folly walk cheek by jowl; repentance treads on both their heels.’ Ben Franklin.”

“Oh, you’re sorry, too? That’s good to know,” Codex said, putting her violin case down at her feet so that she could tangle one finger into her hair as she struggled to get the words out. “I was just kind of sad because not only was the job not what I expected but my guild members all left me hanging, well, maybe not Zaboo so much since it seems like he had a genuine emergency with his mom, but everyone else just couldn’t be bothered and-”

She huffed a bit and let the tirade trail off. “Sorry,” she said, “it’s just I really appreciate you coming to my rescue. And my violin’s, too.”

Fawkes nodded. Codex tugged nervously on her hair because she really didn’t know what happened next. Should she just head off and find her guildmates? See if anyone had heard from Zaboo and if he’d solved his mother’s problems? Go gawk at the horror that was Bladezz signing autographs in the dealer’s room?

Her dilemma must have showed, because Fawkes interrupted her dithering. “Why don’t you come with me?” Fawkes asked. “There’s a panel with the designers discussing the art and music of the game. I bet you’d like it.”

Codex gasped. “Oh, wow, yes! That’d be great. But isn’t that in the main room downstairs where everyone’s been lined up for ages?”

Fawkes glanced down at the throng and shrugged. “You can shuffle along at the back of the line if you want, but if you want to live a little dangerously, come with me.”

Codex peered over the railing at the daunting sight and imagined herself standing in line for nothing but disappointment. She hefted her violin case, squared her shoulders and said, “Let’s try living dangerously.”

Fawkes offered her his arm again. “You might find that anarchy suits you,” he suggested, leading the way to the elevator bank, his cane helping to encourage a little space for their passage.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Codex conceded with a wicked little grin. “It was fun to watch Kevin grovel, there. A lot of fun!”

She snuck a look at Fawkes’ profile as she said that and felt her heart hitch a little bit, so she had to let some other words tumble out. “But I don’t want you thinking that there’s anything going on between us because, I mean, after all, you were totally unjustified to come back and try to patch things up with me after all you did and it’s not like we could ever really be together anyway because your guild and my guild are, like, on opposite ends of the spectrum-”

Fawkes sighed as they stopped in front of the elevator doors. “‘Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.’ Shakespeare.”

“ _The Two Gentlemen of Verona_ ,” Codex identified automatically. “Oh,” she added breathlessly, as she thought through the implications of his words. “Really?”

He leaned down and kissed her. And it was hot and just a little bit dangerous, certainly enough to make her think that playing with fire wasn’t always a bad thing.

Fawkes lifted his lips from hers, but held her close with his one good arm.

Codex shot a considering glance up at him. “You’re still a jerk, at least sometimes, you know?”

Fawkes chuckled. “You’re still a pushover, you know, but you’re getting better.”

They broke apart as the elevator chimes rang and Codex smiled brightly as they stepped in. “Well, then. Game on!”


End file.
